The Pearl Sister (The Seven Sisters Book 4) by Lucinda Riley (18)

18

‘You well now, Missus Kitty,’ Camira commented a week later. ‘You mended good, yes?’

‘I’ve mended good,’ Kitty repeated as she drank a cup of tea on the veranda, looking at her demolished rose bed and wondering whether it was actually worth the effort of planting another. She gazed dreamily at Camira, who was sloshing water onto the caked red mud and scrubbing it off with a hard brush.

‘You different.’ Camira leant on her brush and contemplated her mistress. ‘You lit up likem star!’ she said, then carried on scrubbing.

‘I am certainly relieved to be well again, and perhaps we have seen the last of the heavy rains for this year.’

‘Dem all good reason for happy, but I thinkum Mister Drum makem you happy too, Missus Kitty.’ Camira tapped her nose, winked and went off to get a fresh pail of water.

Kitty’s heart missed a beat at Camira’s words. How did she know? Surely she could not have seen anything – they were both so careful, leaving any affectionate embraces until after Camira was in her hut with Cat, and Charlie fast asleep in his bed. Yet the sound of laughter as Drummond teased her per petually, or tickled Charlie until he begged for mercy, was different. The house had a new energy and so did she. In fact, Kitty mused, she felt properly alive for the first time in her life.

Day and night, her body tingled with longing for Drummond, whether he was present in the room with her or tucked away in her imagination. Even the simplest pursuits now gave her pleasure if he was by her side. The merest touch of his hand shot a wave of electricity through her, and she’d wake up in the morning already longing for the evening to arrive so she could go to him and share their secret world of ecstasy.

After that first night, they had made a pact to simply live in the moment, not to let thoughts of the future destroy what they had found together. Kitty was amazed and ashamed at how easily she’d been able to do this. Though the rational part of her mind knew that Andrew would be returning in less than a month, its far more powerful emotional ‘twin’ overrode it. She justified her actions with the thought that Drummond’s presence during the long rainy season had not only saved her life, but been a blessing for Charlie too. Drummond’s inventive mind could turn a chair into a ship filled with pirates and treasure being tossed on the sea, or a table into a hut in the jungle outside which lions and tigers roamed. It made a welcome change from the monotonous card games that Andrew always suggested when it rained.

Drummond’s a child himself, Kitty thought to herself as she watched him crawl along the hall, growling fiercely. But at night, he was very much a man . . .

Since the weather had cleared, there had also been trips to Riddell Beach and in the furthest corner, shielded by the rock formations, Kitty had joined Cat, Drummond and a now proficient Charlie in the gorgeous aquamarine waters.

‘Mama! Take off your bloomers!’ Charlie had shouted at her. ‘Uncle Drum said clothes weigh you down.’

Kitty had not gone that far in front of Charlie, and had sworn him to secrecy about the swimming trips, but on a couple of occasions, she had left Charlie with Camira on the premise of business in town. She and Drummond had taken the cart to the beach and swum naked together. As he’d held her in his arms, kissing her face, her neck and licking the salty water off her breasts when they arrived back on the sands, she knew that no future moment she experienced could ever hold more happiness.

* * *

‘Darling,’ Drummond said at the end of February as they lay together in his bed, Kitty half drugged from their lovemaking. ‘I have received a telegram from my father. He wishes me to join him and Andrew in Adelaide at the end of next week when they return from Europe. It’s to do with the Mercer business empire. He wishes to apportion his interests to both Andrew and me so there will be no confusion in the event of his death. I must go home to Alicia Hall to sign the legal papers with the solicitor, and Andrew and I will draw up our own wills.’

‘I see.’ Kitty’s heart, so recently full of love and contentment, plunged down to her stomach. ‘When will you leave?’

‘I catch the boat in two days’ time. Won’t you ask what he is giving me? Find out what my prospects are?’

‘You know I care not a jot about that. I’d live with you in a gum tree with nothing if necessary.’

‘Nevertheless I’ll tell you. As you can well imagine, Andrew will have the Mercer pearling business transferred to him, which at present comprises seventy per cent of the family income. I am to be endowed with a thousand square miles of arid desert and half-starved cattle – in other words, Kilgarra cattle station. Oh, and also a few acres of land some hours’ journey outside of Adelaide. There’s talk of some form of mining in the region, and my father has duly signed up. It may come to nothing, but knowing my father’s instinctive nose when it comes to money, which is akin to a dingo catching the scent of a dead heifer, it will probably turn out to be profitable. I also inherit a bungalow in the Adelaide Hills and the vineyard that surrounds it. After my parents’ deaths, my brother inherits Alicia Hall.’

‘Oh! But the bungalow is so much more beautiful! I have been there, and the views are spectacular!’ Kitty said, remembering it vividly. ‘It was where Andrew proposed . . .’ Her voice trailed off in embarrassment.

‘Did he now? How very . . . quaint.’

‘Forgive me. That was tactless.’

‘I agree entirely.’ Drummond swept a tendril of hair back from her face. ‘Sadly, Mrs Mercer, it seems to me that reality is encroaching on our godforsaken love nest. However much we have done our best to avoid it during these blissful few weeks, the time has come for you to make some decisions.’

She knew it all too well. ‘And surely you too? After all, Andrew is your brother.’

‘Yes, a brother who had no compunction about snatching away my favourite toys when we were younger.’

‘I pray that I am not any form of retribution for his past misdemeanours,’ Kitty countered.

‘If you are, then all to the good,’ Drummond chuckled. Then, seeing her expression, he relented. ‘Kitty . . . my Kat, I am, as always, teasing you. Although it concerns me that I have never yet won any battle Andrew has cared to wage.’

‘Oh yes, you have.’ Kitty reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘You know how to be happy. And because of that, so do I.’

‘I’m likely to become extremely unhappy if we do not talk about our future, my love.’ Drummond cupped her face in the palms of his hands. ‘When I leave for Adelaide, do you wish it to be forever?’

‘Oh Drummond.’ She shook her head despairingly. ‘I do not know.’

‘I am sure you don’t. Good God, what a mess we find ourselves in. Perhaps it might help for me to tell you what I have been thinking.’

‘Please do.’

‘It’s very simple: I can’t bear the thought of leaving you. I may cry like a girl in front of you if you insist on staying with my brother.’ Drummond gave her a weak smile.

‘So what do you suggest?’

‘That, together with Charlie, we elope.’

‘Where to?’

‘The moon would be preferable, but given that’s even further than my cattle station and we’d have to grow wings to get there, Kilgarra is probably the best option.’

‘You want me to come with you?’

‘Yes, although I warn you, Kat, life out there is harsh and brutal. It makes Broome seem like the very epicentre of civilised society. The Ghan camel train passes but twice a year with supplies and the nearest settlement, Alice Springs, is a two-day ride away. There is no doctor or hospital, and only the outside dunny for necessities. There is one benefit, mind you.’

‘What’s that?’

‘The nearest neighbour’s a day’s ride away, so there’ll be no more interminable dinner parties to face.’

Kitty managed a smile, knowing Drummond was doing his best to lighten the atmosphere.

‘What about Andrew? How can we do this to him? It would devastate him. Losing his wife, let alone his beloved son . . .’ She shook her head. ‘He doesn’t deserve it.’

‘No, he doesn’t, and yes, it will hurt him deeply, particularly given that Andrew has never lost anything in his life. He was always the blighter at school that scored the final try to save the day.’

‘I am hardly a rugby ball and neither is Charlie.’ She eyed him. ‘Are you absolutely certain that this isn’t about you winning?’

‘Under the circumstances, absolutely not. I swear to you, Kat, despite my jesting, I love him. He’s my twin and I’d walk a thousand miles not to hurt him, but this is life and death and it can’t be helped.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I physically can’t live without you. It’s unfortunate, but there we have it. So, that’s where I stand. And now, my Kitty-Kat, to use the rugby analogy, the ball is firmly in your hands. It’s up to you to decide.’

* * *

Once again, Kitty found herself in an agony of indecision, because it was not just her future she had to consider. If she left with Drummond, she knew that she would be denying Charlie the right to grow up with his father. Even more troubling was the thought that Andrew may try to fight her to claim Charlie back. At least there was no doubt that he adored his Uncle Drum and would have a loving uncle and father figure there to steer him as he grew. God only knew what she would tell Charlie when he was older; Kitty was well aware of the shock of discovering the bleak truth about a parent one had idolised.

Back and forth she went, even visiting the local church and kneeling to ask for guidance.

‘Please, Lord, I have always been taught that God is love. And I love Drummond with every inch of my soul, but I love Charlie too . . .’

As she knelt, once more she saw her father clasping Annie’s hands on the doorstep. And her poor innocent mother, also pregnant and unaware of her husband’s duplicity.

‘I am not a hypocrite and I cannot be a liar,’ she whispered to a mournful painting of angels flying the dead up to heaven. Though even now, she thought as she stood up, I am no better than my father, lying in my husband’s brother’s bed night after night . . .

‘Lord, I may have had an epiphany,’ she sighed, ‘but I seem to have broken most of Your commandments since I did.’

Outside in the sunshine, Kitty went to study the graves of the departed.

‘Did you ever love like me before you left the earth?’ she whispered to Isobel Dowd’s remains. The poor thing had died at the age of twenty-three – the same age she was now.

Kitty closed her eyes, a deep sigh emanating from inside her. ‘It has gone too far already and I will not deceive my husband for the rest of our lives. Therefore’ – she swallowed hard – ‘the Lord help me, but I must take the consequences.’

* * *

‘I have decided we will come with you to Kilgarra when you return from your meeting in Adelaide,’ Kitty said calmly as she sat with Drummond over dinner that evening.

He stared at her in surprise. ‘Good grief, woman! We were just discussing whether we should take Charlie to the beach for a last swim and you drop that into the conversation!’

‘I thought you should know,’ she said, at least enjoying the stunned expression on Drummond’s face.

‘Yes, you’re right, I should.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well then. We’d better make a plan.’

‘I have also decided I shall tell Andrew myself when he returns home. I will not behave like a coward, Drummond. Camira will take Charlie out beforehand and I shall have a trunk packed and ready. I will leave immediately, collect Charlie from Camira and we will travel to meet you, wherever that may be.’

‘It seems you already have it all worked out.’

‘I have a practical nature and I have found that in difficult situations, it helps to be organised.’ Kitty did not wish him to see the gamut of emotions that were swirling beneath her calm exterior.

‘Am I allowed to express my complete and utter joy at your decision?’ he asked her.

‘You are, but I also wish to know where we should meet after I have . . . done the deed.’

‘Well now.’ Drummond snaked a hand to her across the table. ‘Kitty, are you sure you don’t wish for me to be there with you when you tell Andrew?’

‘Completely. I fear he may shoot you on the spot.’

‘He may well shoot you too.’

‘And it would be no less than I deserve.’ Kitty swallowed hard. ‘But I doubt it. Shooting his wife would certainly damage his reputation in Broome society.’

They both allowed themselves a hollow smile.

‘Are you sure about this, my Kat?’

‘I have no choice because Andrew deserves far better than an unfaithful wife who can never love him.’

‘If it’s any comfort, I am sure it won’t be long before the pearling mothers of Broome have their dutiful daughters lined up along the path to his front door. Now, enough of that. I suggest that I still travel on to Darwin by ship, as I’ve already told both my father and Andrew I plan to do. Then you and Charlie make your escape on the next boat out to Darwin and meet me there.’

‘Andrew may come after us.’

‘He may, and if he does, we shall deal with it.’ Drummond squeezed her hand. ‘By then I shall be by your side.’

‘Must you go to Adelaide? Surely this business meeting with your father can be conducted on another suitable date?’ Kitty could feel her resolve to remain unemotional slowly melting away.

‘The last thing in the world I want to do is to leave you here; above all, I fear that you might change your mind while I’m gone.’ He gave her a grim smile. ‘However, in order for the three of us to have any kind of future, I must go and put my signature on the deeds to Kilgarra station and the other assets. I doubt my father will be keen to transfer them once he knows the truth.’

‘And what about Charlie?’ Kitty felt tears pricking her eyes. ‘How do I explain all this to him?’

‘Just tell him he is coming on a visit to the Outback to visit Uncle Drum and his thousands of cows. I have told him many stories about Kilgarra, and I know he is eager to see it for himself. Then’ – Drummond shrugged his broad shoulders – ‘time passes and you simply don’t return home.’ He paused then. ‘Are you sure about all this, Kat?’

‘No.’ Kitty gave a small shake of her head as he raised he hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

‘Of course not. Why should you be?’

* * *

Kitty wept softly against Drummond’s shoulder the night before he left, then, as he slept, took in every inch of him and consigned it to memory. The awfulness of what she had to face between now and the next time she saw him was simply too huge to contemplate.

Their public parting on the quay the next morning was as it should be – she kissed him chastely on both cheeks and wished him well. Any emotion she felt was subsumed by an inconsolable Charlie.

‘Come and visit me soon,’ Drummond called as he walked up the gangplank.

‘I will, Uncle Drum, I promise.’ Charlie was crying openly.

‘I love you,’ he shouted back, though his eyes fell on Kitty. ‘I’ll see you sooner than you think.’

And with a last wave, Drummond disappeared from sight.

Kitty did her best to keep busy, spring-cleaning the house and even insisting Fred help her plant some rose cuttings. She had no idea whether they would take, and even if they did, she wouldn’t be here to see the result.

Yet there was no doubt of her resolve. She could not continue to live a lie. It was as if her life with Andrew had been like a blister pearl – so bright and large on the surface, but at its core, nothing but dull mud. Now she and Drummond had created their own perfect pearl, its edges smooth with joy, and impenetrable love at its very centre.

She received two telegrams a few days later, one from her husband, telling her he had docked safely in Adelaide and that Stefan would be returning to Broome with him and Drummond on the Koombana to see his grandson.

The other telegram was from Drummond saying the same, and adding that the ‘legalities’ were progressing nicely. The Mercer men were due in Broome on 22^nd March – only ten days away, Kitty thought.

That night, she began to pack her trunk, needing to make what currently felt surreal, real.

‘Whattum doing, Missus Kitty?’ a voice came from behind her.

She jumped a mile in the air and wished for once that Camira did not move around with the silence of a cat.

‘I’m packing away some of Charlie’s baby clothes,’ she improvised, and let the lid of the trunk fall closed.

‘But that shirt, it still fittum him good.’

Kitty felt Camira watching her as she stood up. ‘Isn’t it time the children were in bed?’

‘Yessum.’ Camira made to walk away, then turned back towards Kitty. ‘I see every little thing, I knowa why you packum dat trunk. Jus’ don’t forget us. We come alonga you, an’ Fred protect you from bad blackfellas.’ With that, she left the room.

Kitty shook her head in wonder and irritation. Camira seemed to intuit her inner emotional machinations by an invisible osmosis.

At night, her head spun with feverish plans, trying to think of everything that could go wrong and factoring it in. The one thing she knew for certain was that Drummond would never let her down, and once she was safely in his arms in Darwin, all would be well.

She wrote heartfelt letters to her mother and Mrs McCrombie, asking for their forgiveness and understanding, then secreted them in the lining of the trunk. She then began a letter to Edith, but decided against it, as there was simply nothing she could say to make the situation better. Edith would at least have the comfort of knowing she’d been right all along. Kitty was her father’s daughter through and through.

‘I could not be more prepared,’ she whispered.

Another telegram arrived for her the next morning from Andrew.

Kitty frowned, wondering what on earth Andrew meant, but then Charlie came in for a cuddle and a story and she thought no more about it.

* * *

The night before her planned escape, the weather was in sympathy with Kitty’s roiling emotions. The clouds hung black and foreboding in the sky and thunder shook the earth, bolts of lightning tearing the sky like a ripping seam. Kitty paced the house, the shuttered windows rattling with the effort of keeping out the elements.

She rose along with the rest of the town the next day, and stepped outside in relief to see that the storm had been all bark but no bite. Her roses were still standing, and Fred commented that the winds had exhausted themselves over the Pindan sands in the south. Not that she had slept a wink – the Koombana was due to arrive in Broome that evening, and she knew that even after she had told Andrew she was leaving, there was a long and arduous journey ahead of her to Darwin. And she still felt occasionally nauseated, her stomach unsettled, which Dr Suzuki had assured her was the aftermath of her illness.

Should I tell Andrew tonight, or perhaps tomorrow morning? Kitty asked herself for the umpteenth time. It hardly made things easier that Stefan would be here in Broome too, and she would have to wait until he was out of the way. Kitty’s hands shook visibly as she washed and dressed. She found Camira in the kitchen, making eggs for Charlie’s breakfast.

‘You look white, like-a dem spirits up in the sky, Missus Kitty,’ she commented, then patted her shoulder. ‘Dun worry, me an’ Fred, we takem care of Charlie on beach when you wanta talk to Mister Boss.’

‘Thank you.’ Kitty covered Camira’s hand with her own. ‘And I promise to send word to you and Fred once we are safely out at Kilgarra.’

‘We come wid you,’ Camira said with a nod. ‘We-a here for you, Missus Kitty.’

‘Thank you, Camira. Truly, I do not know what I would do without you.’

* * *

The Koombana was due to dock with the evening tide, but when Kitty – by now in such a state of agitation she’d had to resort to a nip of brandy to calm her nerves – reached the harbour there was no sign of the ship out in the bay.

‘There’s been a cyclone,’ the harbour master was telling those already gathered there. ‘We think she might have taken shelter in Derby to wait out the storm. No point hanging around here, ladies and gents. Go to your homes and come back later.’

Kitty cursed the bad weather for striking on the very day she had so carefully prepared herself for. On the train back along the jetty neighbours greeted her, making small talk about the storm the night before and how many of the boats had taken shelter. Mr Pigott, one of Andrew’s fellow pearling masters, sat down next to her.

‘Hope that ship comes in soon. It’s got half my family upon it. Yours too, I hear.’

‘Yes. You think the Koombana is safe? After all, she’s the newest in the fleet.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ Mr Pigott replied, ‘but it was one hell of a storm last night, Mrs Mercer, and I’ve known bigger ships than the Koombana go down before. Well, all we can do is hope for the best. And pray.’ He patted her hand and got up as the train came to a halt. Kitty felt the first tingle of fear creep like a silken thread up her spine.

Back at home, she paced the drawing room as Camira tried to convince her to eat, but she refused. Fred, whom she’d sent to wait on the dock and alert her to any sighting of the ship, returned home at midnight.

‘No-a boat, Missus Boss.’

Kitty retired to bed, but sleep refused to take her, as her mind turned over in anxiety.

The next morning, as Fred drove her towards the dock, she was swept up in crowds of people gathered in the town who were discussing the fate of the Koombana in hushed whispers. Kitty decided to follow them up the hill at the end of Dampier Terrace, where the residents peered out over Roebuck Bay.

‘We don’t know where she is, Mrs Mercer,’ said Mr Rubin, another pearling master. ‘The postmaster says he thinks the telegraph lines at Derby blew down, which is why they’re not replying. There’ll be news soon, I’m sure.’

Beneath her, the treacherous ocean was now like a millpond, and those with binoculars reported that they could see no sign of any vessel. A number of pearl luggers were missing too, and as the heat of the day grew stronger, more friends and relatives joined the throng on the top of the hill. Kitty found herself pulled along with the crowd back down the hill to the telegraph office to question the postmaster. He told the crowd that he was continuing to send messages to the Derby office, but silence was the only response.

Finally, at sunset, a hush fell over the crowd outside the hut as the telegraph machine came to life. All that could be heard was the buzzing of insects in the dusk and the tapping of the machine.

The postmaster emerged from the hut, his face sombre. He hung a notice on the board outside then retreated.

Koombana not at Derby, said the words on the black-bordered page.

The harbourmaster, Captain Dalziel, called on all the men to join in the search for the ship, and Kitty overheard Noel Donovan, the Mercer Pearling Company manager, pledging their luggers’ help. Back at home, her mind fogged with terror and exhaustion, Kitty was settled into bed by Camira, who smoothed her hair back from her damp forehead.

‘I stay withum you, singa to sleep,’ Camira soothed her as Kitty held tight to her hand, unable to voice the unbearable thoughts running through her head.

* * *

Over the next few days, as there was no further news, Kitty listened numbly to all those who came to her door to update her on the situation. Issues of the Northern Times piled up on the front doorstep as she refused to so much as look at the headlines.

Nearly two weeks after the Koombana should have docked in Broome, Kitty made her way into the kitchen. Her face fell as she saw Camira crying on Fred’s shoulder.

‘What is it?’

‘The Koombana, Missus Kitty. It sink. Everyone lost. Everyone gone.’

* * *

In retrospect, Kitty could not remember much of the rest of that day; perhaps shock had wiped her memory. She vaguely recalled Fred driving her in the cart to the harbourmaster’s office, where a weeping crowd was gathered. Calling for silence, Captain Dalziel read out the telegram from the Adelaide Steamship Company:

‘With profound regret the company have to announce that they consider the discovery of wreckage by the SS Gorgon and SS Minderoo, which has been identified as belonging to the SS Koombana, is evidence that the Koombana was lost with all hands in the vicinity of Bedout Island, during the cyclone which raged on the twentieth and twenty-first of March . . .’

He read out the passenger list to his devastated audience.

‘. . . McSwain, Donald,

‘Mercer, Andrew,

‘Mercer, Drummond,

‘Mercer, Stefan . . .’

Some deckchairs were found so that the women could sit. Many amongst the crowd had already dropped to the ground where they stood.

Mr Pigott had been one of the first to collapse and was sobbing loudly. Unable to process any of her own thoughts or feelings, Kitty at least thanked God for the small mercy of not losing a child. Mr Pigott had lost his wife and two daughters.

Eventually, the devastated townspeople began to stagger home to tell their relatives that there were no survivors. Captain Dalziel had mentioned that the victims’ nearest and dearest were being contacted by telegram as he spoke. As Fred helped her onto the cart, Kitty mused that the only person she had to tell was her son. Nevertheless, when she arrived home, she automatically took up her fountain pen and wrote a short note of sympathy to Edith, understanding there were no words of comfort she could give to a woman who had lost her husband and two sons in one cruel twist of fate. She asked Fred to take it to the telegraph office, then went to her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and sat staring into space.

Andrew has gone.

Drummond has gone . . .

The words were meaningless. Kitty lay down fully clothed on the bed she had shared with both of them, closed her eyes and slept.

* * *

‘Charlie, darling, I need to talk to you about something.’

‘What is it, Mama? When is Papa coming home?’

‘Well, Charlie, the thing is, Papa isn’t coming home. At least, not to us anyway.’

‘Then where is he going?’

‘Your papa, Uncle Drum and Grandfather Mercer have been called up to heaven to be with the angels.’ Kitty felt the first pricking of tears behind her eyes. Having been unable to shed a tear since she’d heard the news, she knew she absolutely mustn’t and couldn’t cry now in front of her son. ‘They’re special, you see, and God wanted them up there with Him.’

‘You mean, to be with their ancestors? With the rest of dem spirits? Mama’ – Charlie wagged a finger at her – ‘Cat says that when someone goes up to the skies, we mustn’t speak their name.’ He put his finger to his lips. ‘Shh.’

‘Charlie, it is perfectly all right for us to speak their names. And remember them.’

‘Cat says it’s not—’

‘I don’t care what Cat says!’ All of Kitty’s suppressed tension bubbled over at his words. ‘I am your mother, Charlie, and you will listen to me!’

‘Sorry, Mama.’ Charlie’s bottom lip trembled. ‘So they are gone up to heaven? And we will never see them again?’

‘I’m afraid not, darling. But we will always remember them,’ Kitty replied more gently, feeling dreadful for shouting at him at such a moment. ‘And they will watch over us from the skies.’

‘Can I go and visit them, sometimes?’

‘No, darling, not yet, although one day, you will see them again.’

‘Maybe they’ll come down here. Cat says her ancestors do that sometimes in her dreams.’

‘Perhaps, but you and she are different, Charlie, and . . .’ Kitty shook her head. ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter now. I am so very sorry, darling.’ She took Charlie in her arms and hugged him to her.

‘I will miss them, specially Uncle Drum. He played such good games.’ Charlie pulled away from her and laid a hand on his mother’s arm. ‘Remember, they are watching over us. Cat says—’ Charlie stopped himself and said no more.

‘Perhaps we will go and stay in Adelaide with Grandmother Edith?’ Kitty tried desperately to recover her equilibrium. It seemed that her four-year-old child was comforting her.

‘No.’ Charlie wrinkled his nose. ‘I like it here with Cat and Camira. They’re our family.’

‘Yes, my brave boy.’ She gave him a weak smile. ‘They are.’

* * *

Drummond is gone!

Kitty sat bolt upright, relieved to emerge from a terrible nightmare. Then, as her senses returned to her, she realised it wasn’t a nightmare. Or, at least, it was, but not one that would dissipate as she was pulled back into consciousness, because Drummond would never be conscious again.

Or Andrew. Spare a thought for your husband. He is dead too . . .

Or maybe, she thought, it was her that was dead; perhaps she had been sent to hell to suffer for what she had done.

‘Please, Lord, don’t let this be. It can’t be . . .’ She buried her face in the pillow to drown tearless sobs that felt like great gulps of unendurable pain.

And Andrew – what had he ever done to deserve her deception? He had loved her in the only way he knew how. Excitement? No, but did that matter? Did anything matter any more?

‘Nothing matters, nothing matters. I . . .’ Kitty stuffed a handful of sheet into her mouth, realising she was about to scream. ‘I am a whore, a jezebel! No better than my father! I cannot live with this, I cannot live with myself! Oh God!’

She stood up then, pacing the floor and shaking her head from side to side. ‘I cannot live. I cannot live!’

‘Missus Kitty, come outside an’ walk wid me.’

Her vision was full of purple and red lights and she was dizzy but she felt an arm go around her shoulder and guide her to the front door. And then across the garden, the fresh red soil that Fred had spread feeling damp like drying blood beneath her feet.

‘I’m going to scream, I must scream!’

‘Missus Kitty, we will walk, wid the earth beneath us, an’ we will lookum up an’ we will see dem fellas lookin’ down.’

‘I killed both of them, in different ways. I lay with a man who was not my husband, but his twin brother. I loved him! God help me, I loved him so much. I love him now . . .’ Kitty sank to her knees in the earth.

Camira gently tugged her chin upwards. ‘Understand not for you to makem destiny. Dem makem it up there.’ Camira pointed. ‘I know you love dat fella. Me, I lovem him too. But we not kill him, Missus Kitty. Bad things, they happen. I see-a lotta bad things. Dem fellas, they have good life. Life, it begin an’ end. No one change dat.’

‘No one can change that.’ Kitty put her head on her knees and wept. ‘No one can change that . . .’

Eventually, when it felt as if every single drop of fluid in her body had drained out of her eyes, Camira helped her to standing.

‘I take you sleepa now, Missus Kitty. The young fella needum you tomorrow. An’ next day after dat.’

‘Yes, you’re right, Camira, forgive me for my behaviour. I just . . .’ Kitty shook her head. There were no more words.

‘In big desert, we go an’ howl loud as you like at moon an’ stars. Good for you, gettum bad things out. Then feel better.’

Camira helped Kitty into bed, then sat next to her holding her hand. ‘Dunna you worry. I singa dem fellas home.’

As Kitty closed her exhausted eyes, she heard Camira’s high sweet voice humming a soft monotonous tune.

‘God forgive me for what I have done,’ she murmured, before sleep finally overtook her.